GCT 9

“Ugh…”

Seeing Yohan sweating coldly, clutching his stomach, and groaning in pain, Lear, with a face full of guilt, tightly embraced Yohan.

Feeling the warmth of the body nestled perfectly in his arms, Lear leaned back against the bed. At that moment, Yohan buried his face in Lear’s shoulder, trembling slightly, and said, “I’m dying… like this… ugh… really…”

“Crying?”

“Tch, no… you bastard… hic, I’m… not crying…?”

Yohan’s voice wavered slightly, and Lear couldn’t help but feel a laugh bubbling up. Instead, he kissed Yohan’s cheeks repeatedly, stroking his back. When Yohan’s sniffles finally subsided, Lear turned his body, positioning Yohan beneath him, gently brushing back his slightly damp black hair, and asked tenderly, “Were you scared?”

“Who… said I was scared…?”

“You were crying.”

From the morning, Lear had been wringing him out, yet now he reached out with the utmost gentleness to stroke Yohan’s cheek, making Yohan feel oddly wronged. Even when he narrowly missed a regional championship in high school, endured grueling training during a brutal war and at the FBI Academy, and even at Diane’s funeral, he hadn’t shed a single tear. Yet, the fact that he’d cried over something like this irritated him. What annoyed him even more was the throbbing erection in his lower half, which was driving him absolutely insane.

“You bastard.”

“Should I bark like a dog?”

“You damn bastard.”

“Woof woof.”

“Stop messing around…”

“How… do you want me to help?”

“Crazy bastard.”

“Don’t curse with that pretty mouth, okay?”

“…Don’t put it in.”

“Should I use my mouth?”

At Lear’s words, Yohan froze for a moment before shaking his head vigorously. “You think I’m some kind of pervert like you? From the morning, what… that kind of… huh?”

As Yohan sniffled and spoke, Lear smiled softly and kissed his lips. From the morning, he bit those sulky lips gently, parting them to slip his tongue inside.

Feeling Yohan’s heated breath, slightly feverish, Lear reached out and grabbed Yohan’s erection, which was resting on his thigh, along with his own. It had already swollen and hardened, difficult to hold in one hand, but Lear moved his hand anyway. The two erections collided, skin brushing against skin, gradually becoming slick. When Lear rubbed the tip of Yohan’s glans with his thumb, Yohan parted his lips and looked at Lear with a face that seemed ready to climax any second.

“Ugh…”

Thinking that Yohan would never believe how adorable he looked, Lear bit his lip hard. Meeting Yohan’s dark eyes again, he shook their erections more boldly. Yohan leaned his head on Lear’s shoulder, gripping his arm, and ejaculated as is.

“Haa…”

Panting heavily, Yohan felt his vision blur. Exhausted from being tormented by the pervert in front of him, he closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

“…This is a problem.”

With a troubled expression, Lear laid Yohan down on the bed and looked at him. Frowning, he muttered an apology while gripping and shaking his own erection. For some reason, he couldn’t control his impulses around Yohan, and at the same time, he kept giving in to him, which felt strange. To think that a beta man, not at all his type from head to toe, could shake his emotions like this. Lear resolved to stay true to himself but couldn’t resist brushing his lips against the cheek of Yohan, who was sleeping like a baby.

---

“Ugh… my back…”

It was partly because of Lear, but having slept all day in bed, Yohan’s back ached, waking him up. Groaning in pain and sighing deeply at his throbbing head, he held his forehead. Then he noticed he was wearing the clothes he’d stuffed in his bag—a black shirt covered in a monstera pattern. Finding some comfort in it, Yohan let out a heavy sigh.

“That bastard… should’ve done it sooner…”

Muttering to himself, Yohan glanced at the clock in the room and jumped up in shock. At that moment, he realized he was wearing nothing but green dragon-patterned underwear on his lower half, and a curse slipped out. But what infuriated him more was the time—four in the afternoon.

To waste a day like this… It was the first time since his reckless, wandering college days.

“Where do I even start pointing out what’s wrong? I’m such a hopeless idiot for going after an alpha like him.”

Yohan clicked his tongue, gritted his teeth, and got off the bed. Not some Winnie the Pooh, he wasn’t about to stay in a hotel room without pants. Thinking he should go out, get some air, and eat, he started looking for his pants.

“Yohan!”

In a hotel room that was unnecessarily spacious with too many windows, Yohan turned at the sound of his name. Lear, holding a manila folder and a laptop, looked more relaxed than usual, though Yohan had no idea where he’d been.

“What?”

Yohan asked curtly, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Lear’s slightly softer expression.

“You’re not feeling well—why are you up?”

“If I keep lying down, it’ll hurt more. And whose fault is this anyway?”

His voice grew louder with sudden frustration. Lear, looking concerned but shifting his gaze to Yohan’s lower half, said, “Yohan, if you keep glaring like that, we’re really in trouble. Especially without pants…”

Yohan, annoyed by Lear’s lip-smacking, grabbed a cushion from the nearby sofa and threw it at him. Infuriatingly, Lear caught it and flashed a bright smile.

“Wanna die?”

“Sorry, I should’ve just let it hit me. Haha. My reflexes are too good.”

“Annoying bastard. Never again with you… that kind of…”

“Really?”

“Y-yeah!”

“You love sex so much, and you’re saying you won’t do it with me?”

Sneering as if Yohan’s words were absurd, Lear’s comment made Yohan snap irritably, “What, am I some sex addict? And who says I have to do it with you? Huh?”

They weren’t married, not even dating. They’d just locked eyes and bodies, ending up here. But Lear’s thoughts differed slightly from Yohan’s.

“I’m so good, you won’t even think about doing it with anyone else.”

Yohan flinched at Lear’s overwhelming confidence. What kind of guy is this? But then, could he really meet someone as good as Lear? The guy’s equipment aside, he was infuriatingly skilled. Still, there was no need to feed his ego, so Yohan scoffed and countered, “What nonsense… There are plenty of people out there besides you. And I’m pretty popular, you know? If I want to find someone, I can. Right now, even.”

Yohan felt a pang of self-loathing for saying such things in front of Lear but tried to act as confident as possible. Come to think of it, he’d never struggled to date and had received plenty of confessions.

“So, you’re saying you’ll roll around with some other bastard?”

Yohan wanted to say, “What’s it to you who I roll around with?” but Lear’s suddenly serious, half-crazed look left him speechless.

“Forget it… just get me my pants.”

Lear let out a heavy sigh, brushing back his silvery hair, which shimmered more than usual, and approached Yohan. Smiling gently as if he hadn’t just been stern, he said, “Yohan, don’t make those kinds of jokes. They tear my heart apart. It’s all my fault, so let’s not say things we don’t mean.”

Yohan stared at Lear, wondering if he was truly crazy. Lear sighed lightly and flicked Yohan’s nose with his finger.

“Got it?”

Yohan, dumbfounded, covered his nose. Lear reached out, grabbed his arm, and said, “I’ll get your pants, so sit on the sofa. I’ll help you.”

“No thanks. Help with what?”

Yohan yanked his arm free and shuffled toward the sofa. Lear followed closely, looking anxious, like he was watching a toddler take its first steps.

“Mad?”

Hearing Lear’s voice from behind, Yohan sat on the sofa, looked up at him, and started to say something but held back, waving his hand dismissively.

“Forget it. Just get my pants.”

Yohan, feeling like a mermaid who traded her tail for legs to approach a prince, glared at Lear, thinking at least that wouldn’t feel as unfair. Lear smiled awkwardly, placed the folder on the sofa table, and went to find Yohan’s pants.

“His face is too damn perfect, and it pisses me off.”

His height was annoyingly tall, forcing Yohan’s gaze upward; his dick was stupidly big, making him feel torn apart; and his brain was abnormally sharp, never letting Yohan win an argument.

Muttering, “Ugh, my joints,” Yohan sighed deeply, recalling Lear’s chilling glare from earlier.

“Crazy bastard.”

A curse slipped out instinctively. Then he stared at the folder Lear had left on the table. Knowing Lear’s personality, he wouldn’t leave something sensitive lying around. Yohan reached out, picked up the folder, and opened it.

“…”

It was a high-resolution restored image from CCTV footage. The man pushing a cleaning cart in a hallway was someone very familiar.

“Heinz?”

“Yep. Found footage of Shy Miller working as a janitor at the crime lab.”

Startled by the voice above him, Yohan looked up at Lear, who grinned and handed him pants and painkillers. Yohan thanked him briefly, swallowed the pills first, put on the pants, and sighed heavily before asking, “What was this guy doing there? Stealing candy to slip to you?”

“More importantly… you’re gonna change right in front of me like that?”

“Then don’t look.”

“But that’d be such a shame.”

When Yohan glared, Lear averted his eyes and continued about the photo. “Anyway… the guy ended up dead, so things went south, but the original plan was to kidnap and interrogate him. A small fry like him probably doesn’t know much, but I figured he’d at least know who told him to drug my drink.”

Yohan looked at the photo again and responded to Lear’s words. “You say brutal things so casually.”

“Can’t hide my blood, I guess.”

When Yohan grimaced at Lear’s joke, Lear scooted closer and added, “More than that, I wanted to see Yohan in sexy agent mode, interrogating a criminal.”

Despite all this, Yohan didn’t budge. Ignoring Lear’s words, he hardened his expression and stared at the photo of Heinz. Since Heinz, a janitor, was killed by someone unknown, Yohan didn’t know what to do next.

As Lear once said, targeting someone like a branch chief or prosecutor was too risky. Plus, if Shadow knew Yohan was after Heinz and had him killed, Yohan bit his lower lip. It was back to square one.

“Yohan?”

Lear tapped the photo Yohan was holding with his index finger, calling his name. Yohan snapped out of it and looked up.

“Oh, sorry.”

“You okay?”

Lear’s face was full of worry, as if Yohan’s condition was the issue. Yohan gave a bitter smile, brushed it off, and looked at the next photo. It showed a 9mm Parabellum casing. Common, but remembering Diane was killed by the same type soured Yohan’s mood. Frowning, he asked Lear, “What’s this?”

“Heinz… I mean, Miller. It’s a casing recovered from where he died.”

“9mm Parabellum?”

“Flip to the next one.”

At Lear’s words, Yohan turned the page. This time, it was a Beretta 92F in a pile of trash. It had been a while since he’d seen one.

“This is…”

“Things have changed now, but until 2002, the LAPD mostly used the Beretta 92F. Even after they switched to Glocks, some LAPD still use Berettas.”

“Habits are hard to break. Given the time, it’d be someone pretty high-ranking by now.”

No matter how good the new gear, nothing beat what you were used to. Yohan stuck with his Glock because it was what he’d used since the military and the academy. Anyone who fired over 3,600 rounds with the same gun for 20 weeks would find it hard to switch. If a high-ranking cop was behind this, things could get tricky.

“Plus, these types usually avoid using what cops use.”

“Right. They prefer something big or flashy. Like how Kitty loves me.”

When Yohan glared at Lear’s winking and nonsense, Lear mimed zipping his lips and continued about the gun. “Anyway, that gun was found nearby. Fingerprints and serial number completely wiped.”

Yohan thought maybe it was a good thing his timing was off while chasing Heinz. The guy looked rough, but the person on the motorcycle must’ve been frantic too.

“Professional.”

Lear nodded at Yohan’s words. Yohan held the photos in both hands, alternating between the casing and the Beretta. At a glance, the job seemed sloppy, but looking closely, the hitman who killed Heinz was deliberately scattering attention. Using a gun and ammo common to the LAPD and discarding them, but meticulously erasing the critical details.

“Still, it’s obvious who they’re working for and who sent them.”

Lear snorted. And rightly so—Diane’s and Heinz’s murders were all tied to Declin. Vasquez, in a way, was part of Declin’s lower ranks, so the scope wasn’t that wide.

Of course, Jamal wasn’t thrilled about it. But it definitely wasn’t someone Jamal hired. Yohan had heard Jamal’s hires were Colombian—sicarios, as they were called. Their signature was killing with just two bullets above the target’s eyebrow.

“Miller’s candy in my drink didn’t work, and with the Franco thing, they must’ve been pissed. Couldn’t even handle one job right…”

“So they killed him?”

“Could be. If he’d fallen into my hands, it wouldn’t have ended well for him either.”

“…”

“Just my guess, but… thinking about the creed that let Declin grow this big, well…”

“What’s that?”

“Cut off the seeds of misfortune immediately.”

Yohan sighed heavily.

“Now I get why they’re called Shadow.”

Lear laughed loudly. Yohan scolded him for laughing and looked at the photo again, asking, “What about Heinz? Was the case handed to the LAPD?”

“Unfortunately, no. I had people clean up the scene. You know as well as I do, Yohan, even if the LAPD took it, they wouldn’t care. It’s obviously tied to Declin.”

Yohan had been too naive. Diane’s case alone proved that. He silently cursed his own lack of learning.

“Digging too deep would only tire them out, and with all the money Declin’s spread around, why stir things up and risk losing funding?”

“Still, if you’re holding out, doesn’t that make it irrelevant?”

“Kitty, don’t lump me in with those bastards. I’m trying to get out from under them and have never shown my face as part of Declin.”

Yohan sighed heavily at Lear’s words. His chest felt tight, suffocating. He desperately wanted to solve this long-standing issue, and the opportunity was right there, but he couldn’t find the answer, leaving him frustrated. Suddenly, Lear snatched the photo from Yohan’s hands.

“What?”

“No point making that serious face. There’s nothing we can do right now. We just do what we can.”

At Lear’s words, Yohan raised one eyebrow and glared sharply at him.

“Didn’t I tell you not to look at me like that? Keep it up, and I’ll want to take your pants off.”

“You’re saying that in this situation?”

Yohan looked incredulous, and Lear grinned slyly. “Wanna kiss instead?”

“Get lost.”

“Ha, my pants are already getting wet.”

“Damn, you’re such a pervert.”

Lear’s face lit up as if he was even more excited, laughing “Hehe” before pouncing on Yohan. Climbing on top of him, he raised his hand like a demon about to strike.

“Get off while I’m asking nicely.”

Ignoring Yohan’s words, Lear leaned down and kissed his cursing lips with a loud smack.

“Just your lips.”

What, what, what the…! Ugh! Yohan was about to unleash a torrent of curses but was silenced by Lear’s audacity. Lear laughed “Hehe” again, licked Yohan’s lips, bit them gently, and slipped his tongue inside. Kissing as if he’d melt Yohan’s mouth, Lear pushed him further until Yohan’s breath hitched, only then letting him go and asking, “I’m good, right?”

“You… are so damn annoying.”

“Thanks. Want some service down there while we’re at it?”

“You’ll die if you keep this up, you maniac.”

“Isn’t that normal for newlyweds?”

In that moment, Yohan pushed Lear’s face away with his palm, stood up quickly, and escaped. Lear sighed heavily, leaned back against the sofa, and looked at Yohan, saying, “I’m just as good at sucking down there as I am with your lips.”

“My ears feel dirty just hearing that.”

“Haha. Just kidding.”

“Does it look like a joke?”

Lear chuckled at Yohan’s words, brightly saying, “Nope,” and finally stood up. Meeting Yohan’s eyes, who seemed to be mentally plotting his murder, Lear smiled widely and said, “By the way, aren’t you curious why I brought you to Las Vegas?”